


The Sweater

by falloutbrick



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: An Ugly Holiday Sweaters Contest, Christmas fic, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Platonic Peterick, Van Days Fall Out Boy, grumpy!Patrick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 16:40:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28959600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/falloutbrick/pseuds/falloutbrick
Summary: Just the Fall Out Boys having an ugly sweater contest, that’s all (or is it?).
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	The Sweater

**Author's Note:**

  * For [omegalomaniac_love](https://archiveofourown.org/users/omegalomaniac_love/gifts).



> dear god, this is a whole ass month after Christmas and i was supposed to have finished writing this at the beginning of the year... obviously we know how that turned out. anyways, i hope you like this, nevada! it took a while, but hopefully this upholds to your standards <3

“Really, Pete? Why are we doing this?” Patrick groans at his band mate. It’s currently the morning of December 23rd, or as Pete calls it, “Christmas Eve-Eve.” Patrick thinks that it’s the stupidest thing ever besides the guy who’s detracting him from his morning coffee.

“Oh, come on! It’ll be fun!” Pete says, his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree and a smile as bright as the North star. “It’s just a silly ugly sweater contest with me and the rest of the guys! Nothing illegal, I swear.”

“But why? Why right before a show? Which, by the way, is on Christmas Eve. Who decided that was a great idea?” Patrick sips his coffee with a questioning glare.

“You know, for a guy who isn’t a morning person, you sure ask a lot of questions.” Pete walks out of their apartment’s living room and into their kitchen. The irritated dirty blonde watches him do so from the couch and behind his coffee mug.

“It’s not my fault you pinned this on me so early in the morning—“

“It’s eleven thirty, so it’s barely morning.”

“Whatever! Still, the question stands: Why are we doing this?”

“Like I said, I thought it would be fun.” Pete explains vaguely as he stands in the kitchen and warms up some leftover pizza from the night before. They had a gig last night at a VFW in the next town over, and the vet who owned the place luckily gave them enough money for supper that night. “And besides, I thought that we could wear them for the show that night to, y’know, look festive for the holiday.”

“Joe doesn’t even celebrate Christmas,” Patrick deadpans.

“I know, but he can still wear a sweater with cute little menorahs all over it. That’s why I left the ‘Christmas’ out of ‘ugly Christmas sweater contest’, duh.”

“God, you’re so difficult,” Patrick groans.

“Hey, I’m not being the difficult one. You are-“ Pete turns to point at him from the kitchen. He turns back when the microwave alerts him that his food is ready with a loud beeping noise. He opens the door to retrieve his pizza before exiting the kitchen and walking back into the living room. He sits next to the blonde with his food, and Pete could tell that Patrick was planning on physically harming him if he got any closer. “Listen, I know you don’t like this idea, but Joe and Andy have already said that they would do it. The only one not on board is you.”

“And when did you tell them about this idea?” Patrick asks in a low tone, eye-balling Pete like some predator about to attack its prey.

“Uh…” Pete thought for a moment, “Like, two days ago?”

“And you really thought to tell me this now? At my most grumpiness?”

“Hey, you said it, not me—“

“Oh my fucking god,” Patrick groans a third time. At this rate, he could become a voice actor in a zombie video game. Him being one of the zombies who's band/roommate is bothering so early in the morning that he might just have to eat his brains. But this is a Christmas story, so Patrick digresses.

“Listen, I’m sorry for springing this on you so last minute, but I honestly didn’t think that you’d be so aggressive about it,” Pete shrugs. “It’s an ugly sweater contest, for fuck’s sake, not an orgy.”

“You’re gross.”

“And you’re being rude,” Pete pokes his tongue out like a little kid and Patrick has enough spite in him to do it back.

But, Patrick realizes, that it really isn’t a big deal at the end of the day. All he needs to do is go to Walmart or run over to his mom’s house real quick and find something suitable. He’s really only pissed because it’s Pete; however, because it’s also Pete, he really can’t stay mad at him for very long.

“You know what? Fine, I’ll do it,” Patrick huffs dramatically and Pete starts to smile like a sly cat.

“I knew you’d do it, Tricky.” He says excitedly. “It’s gonna be so much fun, I promise.”

“Whatever,” Patrick rolls his eyes and turns back to the coffee mug he had neglected in his hand to talk to Pete.  _ Thank you, seven pounds and four ounces Baby Jesus, for caffeine, or else he’d shove a Christmas tree up Pete’s you-know-what. _

~~~

Christmas Eve-Eve goes by in a flash, and suddenly Patrick is in his bedroom putting on an itchy, ugly sweater for Pete’s contest. Thank god for his mother who was able to find something for him to wear in the time he visited her yesterday.

The sweater was red and made of a fabric that made Patrick’s skin irritated and itchy. It was warm, but a little too warm for his liking (it was like he was in a literal fireplace, but he’s only being dramatic… kind of). The design was horrendous, but he supposed that it was sort of the whole point of the ordeal for it to be hideous. It had a large, green Christmas tree design sewed into the front with huge ornaments and other decorations hanging to it. The tree was a part of the actual sweater, but the bulbs were real and tied to the sweater with string or whatever Patrick’s mom used to create the effect. Like Patrick said, it was atrocious. He wore his normal blue jeans and black converse along with a trucker hat that unfortunately matched his attire (his mom wanted to put reindeer antlers on it, but he immediately refused her offer). 

Once Patrick was done, he walked out of his bed room and into the living room where two of his bandmates sat in their respective ugly sweaters and hung out. As soon as he entered their line of sight, they immediately stopped talking and started cheering.

“Who knew you could dress so sexy?” Joe laughed in between the obnoxious cat-call at his band mate. He was wearing a blue sweater with a menorah in the middle. Underneath it wrote, “GET LIT” in golden text, and Patrick couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculous the joke is.

“I always look sexy. What are you talking about?” Patrick spun around for their amusement and posed awkwardly for them to observe the tragedy that is his sweater.

“Damn right you do, ‘Trick.” Pete clapped Patrick on the shoulder as he sat down on the couch between him and Joe.

Pete also wore an ugly sweater, but this one was all black with a  _ Nightmare Before Christmas _ theme. Patrick thought it was pretty cool when he came out and showed it off for everyone. It was  _ very _ Pete, and Patrick wouldn’t expect it any other way.

Eventually, Andy came out of the bathroom wearing a black sweater similar to Pete’s, but with skulls, broken-hearts, snowflakes, and Christmas trees arranged in an ugly-sweater design. Again, it was very Andy, and everyone started clapping like they did for Patrick.

“Get it, Hurley!” Patrick cheered as the red-head struck a very feminine pose that sent the boys into more giggles. Once they all calmed down, Pete and Andy switch positions so Andy is sitting on the couch and Pete is standing in front of the other three.

“Alright, guys, that was absolutely amazing,” He laughs. “But, there can only be one winner, and whoever wins has to wear their sweater for the show tonight.”

No one wants to win this horrible prize, yet they look at each other and examine their attire to see who wins.

“I vote for Patrick’s,” Joe speaks up first and points at the blonde who frowns.

“Me too,” Andy laughs and Patrick uses both of his arms to playfully push the two away from him.

“You both are assholes,” He grumbles, but with no real heat to it.

“I’m gonna have to go with yours, Tricky, I’m sorry,” Pete bursts into laughter. “It’s too good!”

“Son of a bitch,” Patrick groans as he leans over to put his head in his hands.  _ He’s going to be a sopping, sweaty mess when the show gets over _ .

“Oh come on, dude, that’s an accomplishment!” Joe nudges his shoulder. “Nobody could even get close to topping yours.”

“Yeah, yours is pretty freaking ugly, but in a good way,” Andy laughs. “I’m sure the crowd is going to love it.”

“Whatever,” Patrick shakes his head. He feels like he should be regretting his decision, but he can’t help but feel like he doesn’t really care whether or not the crowd sees him in this. Either he’s getting second-hand smoke from whatever Joe’s smoking, or Christmas Magic is really a thing because normally he would get angry and throw a temper-tantrum about not getting his way.  _ Definitely whatever Joe’s smoking.. _ .

“Fantastic,” Pete clasps his hands together. “Now that we’ve picked a winner, let’s head to the venue, shall we?”

The boys hoop-and-holler (except for Patrick who mostly pouts like a little kid who’s getting dragged to church on Christmas morning) as they get up from the couch to head to their show that starts in a couple of hours.

~~~

The show went surprisingly well for a concert on the night of Christmas Eve in some guy’s basement about two hours outside of Chicago. Patrick was expecting a dead crowd, but the people there to see them ate their shit up and the rowdiest crowd he’s ever seen. It was pretty fucking crazy.

Nobody really cared about his ugly sweater until Pete pointed it out half-way through their set which got some giggles out of a few girls. However, no one even batted an eye or spoke of it afterwards. Patrick was grateful, of course, and he couldn’t wait to take the hideous thing of. Like stated before, the sweater was itchy and made him feel like a melting snowman. Patrick was already a sweaty guy before, but the wooly fabric made everything ten times worse.

After the show, the boys packed up and headed home in their shitty ass van. They were still high off of the energy that radiated from the crowd during their set, so they played loud music from the van’s stereo while talking their heads off about tonight. 

However, Patrick was dying in the backseat since the heat was on maximum and he still had the sweater on. He couldn’t ask to turn the heat down since the van wouldn’t work if it was off (god, Joe needs to get that fixed), and he can’t take off the sweater since he has nothing else to wear if he does (it’s too fucking cold and he’s too much of a coward to go shirtless). He decides to suffer through it since they’ll be home soon and there’s no reason to cause a fuss about it.

Unfortunately for him, about half way through their journey home, it starts to snow and the van starts making funny noises (at least, more than usual from what Patrick can tell).

“Is everything alright?” He asks Joe who is driving with white knuckles gripping the steering wheel. He also looks pale with nervousness which has Patrick feeling nervous as well.

“I’m fine, I’m just—“ Suddenly, the van starts to swivel a little bit and freaks all of the boys out.

“It’s okay, Joe, calm down.” Andy tries to help out from the front seat, but Joe starts growing panicky.

“I can’t fucking drive anymore,” Joe shakes his head and his voice is trembling with a hint of fear. “The wind and snow are too much.”

“Alright, just… just pull over then,” Andy points to the side of the road. “I can drive us home.”

“I’m afraid we’re gonna—“ Joe is cut off when the van’s tires lose their grip on the ice-coated road. He tries to regain control of the vehicle before it’s too late and the van is already driving into a ditch. It feels like everything was in slow motion as the van tips off the side of the road and drives down into a ditch. Inside, the four boys are tossed around like rag dolls even though they were holding on tight. The van loses motion once the front of the van hits the ground and leaves the boys tilted at a forty five degree angle. Everything shuts off, and all they can hear are the sounds of the snow beating against the metal of the van and their heavy breathing.

“Is everyone okay?” Andy asks in a shaky voice. Everyone else has enough clarity to nod their heads and mumble soft responses. Luckily, they’re all okay, but they’re also freaked the fuck out.

“Holy shit, I’m-“ Joe is the first to scramble out of the van. The driver’s side of the van wasn’t blocked by the ditch, so getting out wasn’t a problem for Joe. Whether the van or their band equipment was okay or not was the biggest problem for Joe, so he goes to inspect everything.

Pete gets out of the van as well to help him out, but mostly because he needed to get out of there. It felt like he was still moving and his mind was flying through the front window. He needed to get away, and that’s what he did.

As for the other two boys, they sit in silence as Pete and Joe look over the damage. Andy is, like always, stoic and oddly calm about the entire thing. The only thing ruining his facade is his shaking hands and chattering teeth hidden behind his lips, but Patrick could hear the clacking.

On the other hand, Patrick was pretty warm, to say the least. Sure, he was pretty freaked out, but the wool of the sweater helped keep him hot enough that the cold wasn’t affecting him as much as it was Andy. For the first time, Patrick is actually thankful that he has this god-awful sweater, or else he would freeze to death. Of course, he was being dramatic, but it still stands.

“Are you alright?” Patrick ends up saying after a few minutes of silence. “You look really cold.”

“I’m okay, just-“ His teeth clatter for a small second, beyond his control. “It’s fucking freezing in here,” Andy turns back around to face the blonde and takes in his appearance. He notices that Patrick is actually sweating rather than shaking. “How are you not freezing?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s the sweater,” Patrick looks down at the ugly thing. “I’m glad I didn’t take it off when I wanted to.”

“Lucky bastard,” Andy laughs. “I usually don’t get cold, but this van feels like fucking Antarctica.”

“I can’t imagine what it’s like outside,” Patrick shakes his head and looks out the window at the black sky. At this point, the snow has started to pile up on the window, so it’s more looking through clouds of white to see the darkness. He could hear the wind whistling from the outside along with the muffled voices of Joe and Pete. It feels oddly comforting, but Patrick would rather be in their warm apartment instead of their broken down van while he experiences these things.

“Hopefully we’re not here for very long, or else we’d turn into literal popsicles,” Andy huffs out a laugh and Patrick chuckles as well. At that moment, Joe and Pete open the van doors and quickly hop inside before shutting them immediately. The fresh cold air brings goosebumps to Patrick’s skin and Andy’s teeth start chattering again.

“Sorry, guys,” Pete laughs with no real humor to it. “It’s so fucking cold out there.”

“Wow, really? We didn’t notice,” Patrick’s tone drips sarcasm and he rolls his eyes. “Is everything alright?”

“Nothing’s fucked up, thankfully,” Joe says, “The equipment got jostled around a bit, but there’s nothing completely fucking up.” Andy and Patrick simultaneously sigh in relief at the news, but Joe continues. “The only thing I’m really concerned about is the van itself. Like, there’s at least one flat tire and it’s gonna be a bitch to get out of this ditch especially with the roads being so icy.”

“So what now? Have you called for help?” Patrick asks again.

“There’s barely any service out here, so either we wait for someone to pass and get their help or we walk to find a nearby house or something.”

“We are not doing the second option,” Patrick shakes his head stubbornly.

“I fucking agree, but I also don’t wanna sit here and freeze.” Joe states sternly. “I’m not entirely sure what to do.”

“Patrick’s lucky since he has his ugly ass sweater to keep him warm,” Andy huffs playfully. Joe and Pete turn to look at his sweater, and Patrick suddenly feels exposed even though his entire body is covered.

“God damn, who knew those sweaters were a good idea.” Pete smiles triumphantly, “Aren't you glad that you did the contest?”

Patrick was about to say some smart-ass response, but the wooly fabric against his skin is making him so warm that it’s even warming up his heart (wow, it really  _ is _ a Christmas miracle… minus the van crashing). He can’t help but smirk, and Pete starts laughing his ass off. No one else finds this funny since they don’t have Patrick’s sweater nor the weird friendship with Patrick like he does with Pete.

“Fuck off,” Patrick ends up responding. Of course, this is with no heat, and Pete continues to laugh.

“Alright, shut up, both of you.” Joe rolls his eyes in annoyance. No one can blame him for being upset since his van is fucked up, so no one takes offense and listens to him. “We need to think of our next move.”

“I say we just wait,” Andy says. “It’s too cold to walk around and find someone nearby, so we can at least stay in here to stay warm.”

“I agree with Andy,” Patrick nods. “We can wait until someone drives past us, and they’ll see that we’re off the road.”

“That’s a good idea in theory, but I don’t wanna waste time just sitting here.” Joe groans. “Besides, who knows when the next person could drive past us. This isn’t a very popular road from what I can tell.” He looks out the window at the road, and it’s not very well kept (from what he can see) and there’s an empty, snow-covered field on the other side. That’s Illinois for you.

“Fine, I’ll go out to try and find a connection for my phone.” Pete pipes in. “There’s gotta be good reception somewhere.”

“Pete, you’ll fucking freeze out there,” Patrick points out, and his tone somewhat pleading.

“With your sweater, I won’t,” Pete smirks and the singer immediately frowns.

“You’re not having my sweater.” He deadpans. “Pete, I will freeze without a shirt.”

“Listen, you can have my jacket if I can have your sweater,” Pete tries to bargain.

“That seems unfair—“

“—What do you mean unfair? I’m gonna be  _ outside _ in the  _ snow _ —“

“—You were already outside! Quit being a little bitc—“

“OH MY GOD, SHUT UP BOTH OF YOU!” Joe yells and immediately everyone becomes mute. “Jesus fucking Christ, you guys are both so annoying.”

“Hey—“

“I never said you could talk.”

If looks could kill, Pete would be crucified and Joe would be the one nailing him to a cross.

“Anyways,” Joe huffs out his anger. “Patrick, give Pete your sweater, so he can find good service. You can have my hoodie to keep you warm.”

Patrick hesitates for a moment, looking at Joe with puppy-dog eyes. Unfortunately for him, the guitarist returns with a stone-cold glare that makes Patrick feel like he’s going to be the one crucified. With that thought in mind, the singer takes off his sweater and hands it to Pete who puts it on over top of his jacket. Joe then takes off his own hoodie to give to Patrick who quickly shoves it on top of his head to slither into.

“Thanks, ‘Trick,” Pete says as he gets ready to head back outside. “I feel warm already.”

“You’re a prick.” Patrick mumbles, and Pete only laughs before opening the door and jumping out of the van, letting a gust of cold air and snow inside the vehicle. Luckily, Pete shut the door as quickly as he opened it, so the boys left in the van didn’t have to suffer for very long.

The boys are stuck in said van for almost an hour until Pete comes back to the vehicle looking like a punk-rock Frosty the Snowman with the amount of snow all over him. Luckily, Pete shakes his body like a wet dog after a bath, ridding himself of the snow before jumping back into the van. Immediately, he’s bombarded with questions from the three boys who had to stare at each other while he was away (Patrick thought about maybe piling together in the back to keep each other warm, but he guessed that he would be turned down).

“So?” Patrick asks. “Did you get any service?”

“Yeah, I called Chris and he said that he could drive out here to get us.” Pete says through chattering teeth. “He wasn’t really happy about it since it was Christmas Eve, but I told him that we’d literally freeze out here if he didn’t find us and that I would haunt him forever.”

“Good,” Joe lets out a sigh of relief. “How long will it be ‘til he gets here.”

“About an hour and a half, but that was a half hour ago, so an hour.”

“Way to do the math, dipshit, now give me my sweater.” Patrick practically growls.

“Dear god, when have you become such whore for ugly sweaters?” Pete sasses, smirking at the blonde with white, shining teeth.

“When I decided that I would rather not freeze in a crashed van in the middle of nowhere,” The singer sasses back. “Now gimme.”

“Oh come on, I’m so warm, ‘Tricky.” Pete exaggerates. “Please don’t take this away from me.”

“I’m literally going to murder you, if you don’t give me that back.”

“Murder me?!” Pete gasps facetiously. “You wouldn’t dare!”

“Fucking watch me.” Patrick goes to leap at the bassist, but Andy interrupts before things get physical.

“Alright, that’s enough.” His hand is outstretched behind the seat and across Patrick’s chest as a way of holding him back. The blonde knows not to go any further since he knows the drummer could beat his ass in two point five seconds. “You two need to behave as we wait for Chris to come help us.”

“You’re such a dad, I love it.” Pete laughs and Patrick can’t help but laugh as well.

“Well, I wouldn’t need to if you two didn’t act like such children.” Andy glances between the two with a stink eye, but there’s no harm by it.

“I just want my sweater back. He doesn’t need it anymore,” Patrick playfully pouts, but Pete only grins.

“Just say the magic word, and I will.”

“Please?”

“Say all of it.”

“Please give me my sweater back, or I will strangle you against that van door.”

Pete glares at him before Patrick rolls his eyes, obviously annoyed.

“Give me my sweater back, please?”

“There we go,” Pete smiles before lifting his arms up and taking off the sweater. He hands it back to Patrick who puts it on after he takes off Joe’s hoodie and hands it back to him. “Are you better now? You know what they say, Patrick, you’re not you without your ugly sweater.”

“Oh fuck off,” Patrick scoffs.

~~~

Eventually, Chris makes it to the crash site, and all the boys are very happy upon his arrival. He helped them get the van and the trailer full of their instruments out of the ditch which took forever, in Patrick’s opinion. It only took an hour, but Patrick had a right to be dramatic.

Nonetheless, they all make it back to the apartment at about three in the morning on Christmas Day. Even though their van was fucked up (how they got it back to their parking garage was a goddamn miracle) and their trailer had a flat tire (also amazing how they pulled that off), it still worked out.

All of them were more than tired as they trudged off to bed (Chris was too lazy to head back to his own apartment, so he just slept on their couch) and slept until 11 AM the next morning. In retrospect, Patrick realized that he probably shouldn’t have slept in so late, but he really didn’t care; his family can deal with his late arrival to their family Christmas party. In fact, he slept wonderful considering the fact that he forgot to take his sweater off and slept with it on.

So maybe Pete was right: He really is an ugly sweater whore.

**Author's Note:**

> well, that’s it! i hope you liked it, nevada. this probably shouldn’t have taken a month to complete, but hopefully my amazing writing skills are able to convince you that it should. nonetheless, for all those that are reading, thank you! y’all are amazing and the baddest bitches. and as always, stay bad <3  
> ~brick


End file.
